


Ron's Little Secret

by November Snowflake (novembersnow)



Series: The Butt Machine Sequence [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Butt machine, Crack, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersnow/pseuds/November%20Snowflake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What has Ron been keeping from his friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ron's Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 20, 2003.
> 
> Dedicated to Ivy Blossom, because it is entirely her fault.

Ron's owl had invited him to drop by his new flat in Diagon Alley around four o'clock on Saturday, and when Harry apparated into the building foyer, he was surprised to see Hermione had just arrived as well.

"Harry," she said, smiling a little. "Oh, good. I'm glad you're here too."

"I thought you were helping Ron move in," he said. "Haven't you already seen the flat?"

Her smile disappeared. "No," she replied. "I haven't. He wouldn't let me."

"Wouldn't let you?"

She shook her head.

"Well…maybe he just wanted to surprise us both, then?" 

Again she shook her head, and her eyes were troubled. "No…it's odd, Harry. Ron's been acting very strangely. He wouldn't let me help him pack, wouldn't let me help him move." She shuddered. "I can only imagine what sort of color scheme he picked out for the living area."

Harry remembered Ron's room at the Burrow with its flashing orange Cannons memorabilia, and shuddered also.

"But it's not just that," she continued. "We were supposed to meet for dinner on Thursday, but he canceled at the last minute, saying he had to wait for a package. A _package_!" She looked at him expectantly, so he quickly schooled his features into what he hoped was a sympathetic expression. Apparently it passed muster, because she went on. "A package! Really! He might as well have told me he had to wash his hair! And you know what's more?" she asked, jabbing a finger at Harry. "I even offered to come over here and wait with him, and do you know what he said?"

"Er…no?"

"Exactly!" she said, poking him again. " _No_ , he said. No explanation, nothing. Just _No_."

"Huh," said Harry, scratching his head.

"He has to be hiding something," she told him. "I mean, why else would he want to keep me away? And it has to be something big." She rubbed her hands along her upper arms. "At first I thought, Maybe he's planning to propose!" Harry looked shocked, and she nodded glumly. "I know. Preposterous thought. If we ever do get to that point, he'll probably just blunder into it without any planning whatsoever. The boy doesn't have a romantic bone in his body," she sighed. This Harry could agree with without any hesitation. "But," she continued, "what _is_ he hiding, then?"

"Er," said Harry when Hermione seemed to be waiting for a response. "Maybe he got a dog?"

Her expression clearly said, _And you're the boy who defeated the Dark Lord and saved all Wizardkind from the forces of evil?_ She shook her head. "No. It's something big." She looked miserable. "All I can think is that he wants to break up with me. Maybe he's even seeing someone else already. He could be screwing around with…with Malfoy, for all I know!"

"He better not be!" Harry shrieked. At Hermione's shocked look, he flushed a little and muttered, "Because, er, Malfoy's a git and all."

Hermione eyed him speculatively and stopped talking for the time being. He kept his own mouth shut as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Ron answered their knock with a mile-wide grin. "Hey!" He punched Harry in the arm and kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Come in, come in! You have to see what I've done with this place!"

It was pretty decent as bachelor pads went, Harry reflected. It wasn't any neater than his own flat, but he'd been living there since they'd graduated from Hogwarts three months ago, while Ron had been here officially only a few days. He eyed the space appreciatively. This much clutter in that little time took real talent.

The living room was small, and not as orange as it could have been, which was something. Ron proudly led them through a tiny kitchen that would have appeared completely unused except for several empty bottles of Butterbeer already piled up in the sink. Hermione wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything. 

The bathroom was also small, and surprisingly clean, considering what Harry remembered of Ron's bathroom habits back at school. Must be Hermione's influence, he thought. The bedroom was a bigger surprise, done in soothing shades of blue. "Ginny wouldn't let me get anything orange," Ron muttered a little sulkily, and out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Hermione looking heavenward, no doubt uttering a prayer of thanks for the civilizing influence of sisters. The floor lacked even a single stray item of laundry, except for….

"What's that?" Hermione asked, pointing at the floor near the foot of the bed. It appeared to be some sort of black leather cap.

Ron's gaze followed the direction she indicated, and he laughed nervously. "Oh, it's nothing!" he said, a little too brightly, and stepped into the room to kick the object underneath the bed. "Must be something that got into my stuff accidentally when I moved in." Hermione looked about to protest, but Ron steered both her and Harry firmly from the room, attempting to lead them back toward the living area. Hermione abruptly dug in her heels.

"What's in this room?" she asked, gesturing at a closed door across the hall from the bedroom.

"Er." Ron frowned. "Study?" he offered.

Even Harry gave him a disbelieving look.

"Well, then," said Hermione, looking determined, "do you mind if we have a look?" She reached for the doorknob.

"Er—" said Ron, grabbing too late for her hand, which had already grasped the knob and found the door locked. She gave him a deceptively mild look. "It's—it's nothing," he said, flashing a dazzling smile.

Harry discreetly turned a laugh into a cough as Hermione's face settled into its "oh _really_ " expression they both knew so well. "If it's nothing," she said, "why is it locked?"

Ron fidgeted. "It's nothing worth seeing."

"Ohhhh." Hermione tilted her chin up, which Ron and Harry knew meant trouble. "So it's private."

"Er…yeah."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you keep in there—a lifetime's supply of _Playwizard_? _Brooms and Bondage_? _Magical Mammaries_?"

Ron stared at her, aghast.

"Well, you know, Hermione," Harry ventured tentatively, "you once told me yourself that magazines like that actually can provide a healthy release of—"

"Shut up, Harry," Hermione said.

"But that time I caught you looking at _Playwizard_ —"

"Shut _up_ , Harry," she snapped, too focused on her standoff with Ron to even blush. "Or maybe you keep something _else_ in there, Ron. Like evidence of another woman!"

Ron paled. "Hermione, no—"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You know, there's a simple enough way of determining whether I'm right." She drew her wand and pointed it at the doorknob. " _Alohomora_!" But when she tried the knob again, the door was still locked.

She turned a glare on Ron. "It's an advanced locking spell," he said, apparently unable to suppress a smug expression at having outfoxed Hermione for once. "Fred and George taught it to me. It requires a subtle and complicated series of charms and passwords to unlock it."

Harry mused at the absurdity of hearing "Fred and George" and "complicated and subtle" spoken in the same breath.

"Oh really?" Hermione said, the arch look returning. "Too bad I'm not in the mood for subtlety today." She stepped back and pointed her wand again. " _Splinterus_!" The door exploded into a pile of twigs.

"Oi!" Ron shouted. "I had to pay a security deposit, you know!"

But Hermione was beyond listening. "Ron," she said slowly, "what the bloody hell is _that_?"

Across the room stood a gleaming work of gears and pistons and poles, the likes of which Hermione and Harry had never seen before. The sun spilled through the window and glinted on chrome, limning a rubber protrusion that looked suspiciously like a…well…. 

"Er," said Ron. "Well. It's…er…a Butt Machine."

"A Butt Machine?" Hermione and Harry echoed.

"Yeah."

"So that—" Hermione pointed, then blushed a little and lowered her arm "—that, er, piece there, goes into—well—"

"Er…yeah."

Hermione looked shell-shocked. "Ron, are you gay?"

"Of course not!" Ron and Harry answered, a little too quickly and too loudly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at them, and they flushed and didn't make eye contact with her or with each other.

"Well, this is…interesting," she said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "However did you find such a…machine?"

"I ordered it," Ron said flatly. "From a Muggle company."

"And…and you enjoy it?"

Finally he met her eyes, looking both embarrassed and defiant. "Yeah. I do."

Tears welled up suddenly in Hermione's eyes. "Am I not enough for you, Ron, is that it?"

All the tension melted from his frame at the look of misery on Hermione's face. "No! No, Hermione, that isn't it at all!" He pulled her close, and she pressed her face into his chest as he stroked her hair. Harry looked away from the private scene, instead turning to examine the Butt Machine with great interest.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Herm," Ron murmured. "It's just…I don't know…I felt this…this _need_ , and I didn't know how to explain it to you…."

"I wish you'd told me," she sniffled, raising her head to meet his gaze. There was a small, wicked glint in her eyes. "Because I have a perfectly good strap-on sitting at home in a box, collecting dust."

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter. "Ah, Hermione. I knew there was a reason I adored you."


End file.
